When proper "meter" don't rightly "matter:"

The Divine Axioms of Backwater Beauty

Suppos'n you’ve got a fine stairway t' climb
The highest reaches o' all the humankind
Rest, you might, sittin' down at the top
Lookin' out o’er the vast network that once made you proud.

See, you would, your backwater home,
Tiny 'n' fine as the hairs on your arms
Pulled harshly by tweezers that look much like bulldozers
Big heavy tractors t' push back your farms
And your families.

You called yourself "Jester," a Colonel you was
In the Juggernaut War, a contest o' spirits
'Twixt townsfolk 'n' business men; came contractors that fall
An' 'long came the Plumber, then down with all
You ever knew about livin' a free life.

Plumber's real name was Oil & Gas & Electric & Cable Company
If'n my memory serves right, and I 'spect it be.

You fought like the dickens, t' keep yourself livin',
And fostered the Jerkwater Kid, with keen in the voice
Luke Flyswatter joined in, an' on about then
Plumber might’ve even been nervous o' Lawyer Jim.

Fires 'n' traps, and little tricks you played, Oh!
Plumber moved out for a spell, seems I remember
The Parade, as you marched your Backwater Brigade
That September, and the townsfolk called you hero,
But you blushed an' pulled your overalls back up

And replied, "Aw, shucks. I ain't no savior."

But soon enough, you know, ol' Plumber came back
Seemed them big business critters had help from the state
And the National Guard, wouldn't you know?
And maybe even a soldier or two among ‘em
Could whoop our stubborn hides.

But t'was you, Colonel Jester Juggernaut o' the Backwater Graces,
Puttin' grins on ladies' faces when you led the attack,
An' even the National Guard pulled back in fear
Just from the awesome sight of 200 townsmen
In tattered ol' overalls
An' Nike Air Cross trainers we all bought on sale.

Plumber was tough, tho', and they put up them wires
An' no army was gonna stop them from placin' poles,
Choppin' trees and settin' up cables to satellite remotes
All over the world; now ain't that somethin'?
Just where would we be without HBO? MTV?

An' reruns of Gilligan's Island?

Well, Flyswatter went down, using somethin' called "The Farce,"
But let it be known
He died with a sword of light in one hand
An' a spoonful o' mashed 'taters in th' other.

T'wasn't lookin' so good, till you scratched that beard
An' threw in your secret weapon, lo 'n' behold!
But out from the swamps they walked
Or swam
The Legacy Brother, and the two fiddle crew!

Yep, back then I knowed you as a fine leader indeed,
When you flogged poor Plumber from the roots
With dueling fiddles from your two fiddle crew
An' the deafening scream o' that Legacy Brother
Made Plumber run like a whipped hound
Back to mother.

And I reckon that was the last we heard o' them.

So, that was th' end, and they gave you a medal
On it, it said you was the best dang hero,
Since John Twain but he weren't Backwater
Any more than that Vice Prez "Punts" or "Pennies"
Or whatever t'was he a' called himself.

Seems way a'fore my time,
And I reckon t'is just as well.
I don't give Jack's flying snot
About corporo-political injustice
Nor the hounds of hell.

-Shawn